Eleutheria
by Roni-chan
Summary: "What they did was stupid, and we are not going to repeat their mistake." And, with that said, Makoto and Haruka silently vowed to each other that this, too, would be put away into the drawer of secrets they kept together, right next to Makoto's fear of the sea, and Haruka's fear of abandonment. What was the point of talking, when it was unlikely they'd ever see them again?
1. Prologue

**A/N:** The plot may seem otherwise at first glance, but this is actually a MakoHaru fic (or at least, will be eventually). It has been a while since I last had the blatant courage to write fanfiction that included OCs in relatively major roles (even if neither of them are supposed to be main characters), so constructive criticism is much appreciated!

The title is Freedom in Latin.

* * *

**Eleutheria**

**Prologue**

_oOo_

Winter was approaching quickly; today might have just been the last day that the team got to practice. After they'd so spectacularly blown their performance at the regionals (not that either of them regretted it), the school had, obviously, decided against giving the club a budget high enough for them to be able to use an indoor swimming pool, so this could just as well be their last afternoon spent swimming this year, for all they knew. The mood was set accordingly; nobody was really working hard. Makoto was doing laps at a leisurely pace of backstrokes, Nagisa was racing Rei for the fun of it, both of them swimming butterfly, and Haruka... well, Haruka was true to himself, not even attempting to look like he was putting effort into it, just staying afloat with his eyes closed in one of the empty lanes, successfully evading Gou's piercing gaze, and likewise ignoring her protests.

"It's fine, fine," Amakata-sensei waved Gou's concern away with a careless flick of her hand. "They've earned themselves this, yes?"

"Earned with what?" Gou huffed, folding her arms, but out of the corner of her eyes, she kept watching the butterfly race. "Goofing off?"

A cool breeze swept across the grounds, and Ama-chan's gaze was undecipherable underneath the brown locks swept into her eyes. "You can overwork them all winter when they'll be building up muscles, Gou-chan."

With a soft giggle, the supervising teacher went back to her book, and Gou went to crouch on the edge of the pool to watch the arriving pair as their race came to an end.

She wouldn't have expected such an end, though. Rei arrived first - that was no surprise, butterfly wasn't Nagisa's element - but not only did the blond lag behind, he didn't manage to arrive properly either. Gou thought she'd seen something akin to shock on the underclassman's face at his last resurfacing, and then he seemingly lost balance, crashing against the wall of the pool with a shoulder, and collapsing underwater. The manager's surprised-horrified shriek pierced the chilly October air.

Miraculously, Makoto and Haruka were there in an instant, and while Rei was still trying to get his bearings, standing in the shoulder-deep water and peering around short-sightedly to see where Nagisa had disappeared to, the two grabbed their friend under each arm, and tugged him to the surface. Even as he coughed and spluttered, trying to regain his balance, and control of his lungs, Nagisa was trying to point at something behind their backs.

"Nagisa, what's wrong?" Makoto asked, concerned, as he first pushed himself out of the pool, then held out a hand for the blond to take. "Ouch, no, don't give me that hand-..." Too late. Nagisa reflexively raised his right arm, the one that was full of bruises already turning into a lurid purple from his shoulder to his elbow. He fell back into the water with a hiss, descending till it was up to his chin, fresh tears of pain springing into his eyes. He tilted his head backwards, as if searching for something, and muttered something semi-coherent that not even Haruka, who was standing next to him, could make out. "Come on," Makoto urged, apparently alarmed by this behaviour. "Your cheek is bleeding, too!"

"Oh..." Nagisa seemed to finally realize there were people around him. "I probably hit my head..." Haruka raised his eyes to the sky exasperatedly. "Help me out, please, Mako-chan?"

"What have I been trying to do till now?!" Makoto grabbed Nagisa by the wrist of his uninjured arm, and pulled him out of the water at the same time when Rei finally climbed out as well, scrambling towards them on all fours.

"Nagisa-kun! What happened? Are you all right?"

_oOo_

"... So?"

The question was from Haruka. He was the only one standing a little further away while Nagisa sat on the ground, pressing a towel against his swollen cheekbone, and the other four, including the women, crouched around him. The blond's eyes settled on his teammate and friend, an unusually solemn look settling onto his usually cheerful features.

"I saw something." There was a pause, in which Haruka continued to stare at him. "It doesn't matter. It was only for a second. I was probably hallucinating..." But there was something odd to his tone, odd enough to prompt Gou to ask,

"But what was it?"

Nagisa glanced to the side, not at Gou, but at Makoto, and then back at Haruka. Nobody could remember seeing him this hesitant. "I thought I saw... the sisters."

"What sisters?" asked Rei and Gou simultaneously, but at the same time, completely in sync, Makoto's green eyes found Haru's ocean blue gaze. Both of their expressions were of shock and disbelief.

And at that precise moment, a deep female voice rang through the still Autumn air.

"I knew it had to be them! I saw Makoto's backstrokes from the roof! Hacchan, come on!"

Nagisa's eyes darted between his friends. Haruka's expression was completely frozen, shock mingling with fury. Makoto's hands were shaking.


	2. Praetego

**A/N:** Here's the first proper chapter! I feel like I'm completely out of practise with plot-oriented stories, so excuse the slight hiccups. The title means "to protect" (which is also what "mamoru" means in Japanese). Constructive criticism is still very much welcome! There will be one more flashback chapter after this one, and then back to the present (the way it is planned now, but it might be subject to change).

* * *

**Eleutheria**

**Praetego**

_oOo_

_Once upon a time, everyone knew them as 'the sisters', even though they weren't. Not each other's, that is. Once upon a time, people may have said that they might as well have been each other's sisters, but alas, that was not the case. In fact, the truth couldn't have been further away from such an assumption, but, for the longest while, such a truth suited the two of them, and so they let it carry on, and then, nobody questioned how it was that the two of them, almost-sisters, best friends, spent possibly all of their time together._

_The first thing they had in common was their age; both of them were the eldest child of their family. The second thing was that they both threw the status away, with both its privileges and responsibilities._

_oOo_

It was on a warm, sunny, early Autumn day, shortly after Haruka's fourteenth birthday, when he decided that he'd waited enough, that something must be wrong, if Makoto wasn't there yet to drag him out and tell him they were going to be late. Glancing at the clock on the wall, it quickly told him that he was indeed intensely late, and he entertained the odd thought that Makoto might have just gone to school without checking on him. It was unnaturally unnerving. Haru wasn't used to being unnerved by anything, and he had already been unnerved once the previous night, from the oddly empty look in his sister's eyes as she talked to him, even if it had been only a couple of quiet words.

Haruka was wrong, however - and somehow, that was even _more _unnerving. Makoto _was_, in fact, waiting for him, on top of the stairs, sitting in a half-slumped position, absent-mindedly petting one of the stray cats that frequented the street with the knowledge that the kind-hearted brunet would always have something for them. Haruka walked up to him, his expression impassive as usual, but his insides were wriggling with unspoken questions. "We're going to be late," he remarked quietly, causing Makoto to give a start (had he been that immersed in his thoughts?), and look up at him like it was his first time ever seeing his black-haired friend.

"A-Ah... good morning, Haru-chan!" he stammered, but it was clear as the light of the sun raying down on them that he was only saying words he'd said many a times before, without any real meaning behind this time. Haruka frowned, _really _frowned. Makoto's eyes were red-rimmed, shadows underneath them signifying he probably hadn't gotten much sleep, if any at all. _What's wrong, Makoto? _But the words just wouldn't come, as usual; it had always been Makoto who was good with words, and good with reading Haruka, and Haruka had hoped he could rely on that again, but Makoto simply seemed too distraught to even attempt, and all Haruka managed was,

"I told you to drop the -chan part. And I think we already _are _late." Makoto didn't respond, so Haruka added, with his cheeks colouring lightly, "... Sorry about that." And it was probably the heaviness of his tone that finally made the brunet look up at him; the fact that he wasn't only apologizing for not getting out of the bathtub in time to not make his friend late, but also for not knowing how to express his desire to help, because it was always Makoto pulling him up, not the other way around - all Haruka knew was how to be a rock, a rock for Makoto to lean against, hide behind, whatever it was that the taller of the two needed, which, Haruka supposed, usually seemed to be good enough, but not if Haru would have actually had to take the initiative.

When he was challenged, Haruka had a hard time admitting he was bad at something. When he wasn't, usually, he didn't really care. Challenges were a different thing altogether; it was why he had taken on Rin's promise, after all, back then, at the relay. Right now, the challenge was Makoto himself; Makoto's silence, as they finally began their descend on the stone steps together, his hands that were usually hanging casually at his side now stuffed into his pockets, his light green eyes avoiding Haruka's gaze. Haruka bit the inside of his cheek, deciding to give it a try, because it was _Makoto_.

"Hatsuki-nee told me yesterday that Mamoru-nee got a boyfriend." (Although Mamoru was of the Tachibana family, and Hatsuki of the Nanase, both boys had always been addressing them with the same honorifics; it was a habit that had stuck when they had been still too young to comprehend that the way _other people _addressed someone might not have been their only name. Makoto had called his sister Mamoru-nee, so it was obvious that Haruka would do the same.) The words were dropped casually, but from the way Makoto's shoulders tensed up in an instant, Haruka knew it had to be bull's eye. For one, fleeting, absolutely crazy moment, he thought of getting hold of Makoto's hand, and giving it a squeeze, but it was still hidden away in the taller boy's pockets, and linking arms would have been altogether too weird for Haruka's liking. For the next ten steps, ten seconds spent in frozen silence, he wondered why Mamoru-nee's boyfriend was a source of such distress for his best friend. Shouldn't he have been happy for his sister?

"Onee-chan left last night," Makoto finally whispered, or rather, mouthed - if Haruka hadn't been looking at him to read it off his lips, he might have had to ask back.

"Left?" Haruka echoed, incomprehension etched onto his features. "What do you mean left?"

"I... I really don't know." Makoto's lips trembled, and Haruka could see through the fabric of his sweater that his hands balled up into fists inside his pocket. "I just... heard her arguing with Mom and Dad last night, a-and then she said she's never coming back, and s-she stormed out with this huge backpack, and-..."

_Weirdness be damned_, Haruka thought as he latched onto his best friend's arm, tugged on it until the shocked Makoto allowed his hands to slip free from his sweater, and then he reached up and wrapped both arms around the brunet's neck, tugging him down so forcefully that Makoto had absolutely no choice but to lean down to accomodate Haruka's height. After that, wrapping his own arms around the raven's waist was instinctive, and, come to think of it, so were the tears, probably.

Makoto had always looked up to his sister, after all; she wasn't as openly caring as Makoto himself, but it showed that they shared the same blood - she was the kind of person who would smile at a random stranger frowning at her on the sidewalk, and buy an ice cream for a small kid who had just dropped theirs. She was probably the only one who could call her little brother's best friend 'Haru-chan' without repercussions, even at this age (and it might or might not have had to do with the fact that when Haruka had once accidentally called her 'Mamoru-kun', she burst out laughing). Haruka could hardly imagine what was actually going on, much less how Makoto was feeling. One thing was for sure, though; if Makoto was distressed enough to space out on Haruka's greeting, he would definitely be useless in anything that needed his concentration today. And so, without the slightest hint of shame in his voice, Haruka muttered into his best friend's ear,

"I don't feel like going to school. At all."

Makoto's shoulders shook a little under Haruka's arms, and he thought his blood might freeze in his veins, but then he realized Makoto was _laughing_. Haruka wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or annoyed at both being laughed at, and the fact that Makoto, as per usual, saw right through him, as soon as he tried. "Me neither," the brunet admitted, finally loosening his hold, and, not wanting to embarrass him (or worse, himself), Haruka let go too. Makoto took half a step back, and rubbed at his eyes. "But I think we really should."

"Are you sure?" Haruka's expression was back to its usual impassiveness, but the warm look Makoto was giving him was proof that the taller one knew just how much he actually did care.

"If I can't concentrate, at least I can ask for notes right afterwards," Makoto answered the unspoken question yet another time. "As for awkward questions..." Seriously, was he literally reading Haruka's mind at this point? "I can deal with them..." All of a sudden, he gave a _real _smile, a true _Makoto _smile that made Haruka's insides turn upside down and inside out, the kind of smile that made everything easier and altogether better, the one that he wouldn't have thought he would see on his best friend's face today, or soon afterwards. "As long as Haru-chan's there with me," Makoto finished, and the raven had to glance sideways as quickly as he could, so that there would still be a chance that the taller one did not detect the beginning of a smile forming in the corner of his lips.

"I told you, drop the -chan," he huffed, but nevertheless, by the time they were at the bottom of the steps, his fingers had interlaced with Makoto's, giving him the squeeze he'd been craving for long minutes, before letting go again. "You do realize we're already likely to get in trouble for missing half of the..." - a quick glance at a wristwatch - "no, the entire first period?"

"I'll just tell them Haru-chan can't get out of the bathtub by himself in the mornings," Makoto teased, and even if his voice still sounded a little strained, Haruka couldn't help but feel grateful that he was _trying _so hard - whether for his own sake, for Haru's, or merely for appearance's, perhaps it didn't even really matter. It didn't matter, because Makoto was smiling, his hands loosely hanging next to his hips as always, and perhaps it was selfish to think like that, but Haruka had always thought that as long as Makoto could smile like that, the world surely couldn't end, even if it was currently toppled a little upside down. That smile was worth enough, at this given moment, for him to not even complain about the suffix anymore.

As long as Makoto could smile like that, perhaps things would eventually be able to feel _normal _again.

_oOo_

But just the very same night, upon Haruka's return to home, there was no answer when he called out _"I'm home!"_. And Haruka immediately remembered Makoto's words, and he remembered his own sister's faraway expression from the same morning, and then he _knew_, he just did, somehow, even before he found the envelope on the living room table.


	3. Abeo

**A/N:** This was pretty hard to write for some reason. Next chapter will be back to the present (at least partially)! Thank you if you've stuck with the story so far! Constructive criticism is really appreciated! _Abeo_ means 'go away', or 'vanish' in Latin.

* * *

**Eleutheria**

**Abeo**

_oOo_

_Haru,_  
_I'm so sorry. It's selfish, but I hope one day you'll understand._  
_You still won't be alone, you have Makoto... And you'll get my share of the money Father sends us, too._  
_Hatsuki-nee_

If he had bothered to think about it, Haruka would have probably realized how many more unsaid thoughts were in those couple of throwaway sentences. If he had bothered to imagine his sister writing the small slip of paper she'd then left him in a small envelope, together with the remainder of this month's money, he could have probably seen how much her hand shook, how her lips drew into a thin line when she finally set the tip of the pen down determinedly. How she wanted to write 'I love you', but then changed her mind halfway, because she knew her brother well enough to know that, with what she was about to do, she could be sure Haruka wouldn't really believe that.

But Haruka didn't really think anything at all. The words got to his mind, but their real meaning somehow seemed to seep away through the drain. There was a dull throb to his chest, a sort of inexplicable ache that seemed to strengthen when he thought he felt justified, because _I knew she'd leave too_, like their parents had left, because Haruka apparently wasn't important enough. He didn't even bother to crumple up the letter before he threw it in the sink, the throbbing now extending to the back of his eyes, his temples, his forehead.

_Haru,_

He opened the tap and poured water onto it till the letters blurred, but still, it was as if she'd burnt the words into his mind, along with the echo of her voice saying them in his ears, and no amount of water could drown her out.

_I'm so sorry. It's selfish, but I hope one day you'll understand._

She was right about that, it **was **selfish. Haru didn't really think she was actually sorry, because if she was, she wouldn't have left, but maybe she was right and he simply didn't understand. The thing was, though, he didn't actually want to.

_You still won't be alone, you have Makoto... And you'll get my share of the money Father sends us, too._

Haruka opened the tap even wider, the water splashing back from the bottom of the sink and onto his face, his front, dampening his shirt. She could have taken the money, he didn't care. There was still a lot of frozen stuff, and he had always been a better cook than her. She didn't like mackerel, either. Now he could get as much of that as he wanted. He could eat mackerel for every meal if he wanted. That was good, right?

_Hatsuki-nee_

He was all of fourteen, and she was wrong, because having a best friend, even one as good as Makoto was, wasn't really going to replace an entire family having left him behind. Haruka went to the bathtub, and filled it to the brim. He hadn't looked at what tap he even opened, and didn't realize he hadn't heard the rumble of the boiler; he only realized the water was ice cold when he stepped into it. Then again, when had mundane things like that ever stopped Haruka from submerging himself?

The truth of the matter was, perhaps mundane things hadn't, but Hatsuki often had. The Nanase household had always been an odd one; with their mother only ever having wanted one child, and Haruka having been kind of a surprise, he'd always been the odd one out, and at first, when they'd been young, of course, it had gone to Hatsuki's head. She'd had every firstborn privilege Haruka could imagine, and she didn't hesitate to take advantage. Later on, thinking back, he'd thought maybe she'd been too young to notice - because she certainly wasn't too young when their parents had decided to move, just when she had gotten into high school, and as Haruka listened to her yell at their mother from behind his semi-open bedroom door, he couldn't help but wonder how he had missed the part where Hatsuki had begun to care.

He exerted himself from the bathtub at around midnight, by which time he could barely move his limbs, as if he was wholly made of ice. He made it to the bedroom, stripped out of his clothes that he'd never taken off, left them on the floor (he had plenty of time to learn how to take care of himself, yes?), and went to sleep. The house echoed with emptiness, and the blankets felt as if he was covered in rocks that crushed his lungs and didn't allow him to breathe.

It was around nine in the morning when Makoto came around. It was a Saturday, so Haruka, still half asleep, found it a little odd, but, then again, Makoto did have these intuitive things about his best friend. He was glad he didn't stay in the tub till morning; Makoto would have been worried. Even like this, it was oddly painful to breathe; each and every intake felt as if a hundred needles were struck into his lungs. He was trying to sit up when the brunet entered the room with a soft notice of "I'm coming in," but even propping himself up on his elbows was difficult somehow. It was as if someone was pressing a pillow to his ears, Makoto's voice only getting to him through some sort of filter that made only every second word audible, but it was still clear that the brunet was worried about something - no, maybe even downright _scared_. Brown locks falling into brilliant green eyes filled with anxiety entered his blurry field of vision, and the next moment, he fell back on his back, jerking his face away from the touch.

"Makoto-..." he croaked, beginning to shiver. "Your hand... is really cold..."

"No, it's not," came the instant reply, along with a frown so unbefitting Makoto, who always had a smile at the ready for him. "Haru, you're burning up - what have you done?"

Why did it have to be his fault? Haru wanted to groan, but his throat hurt, and he just tugged his blanket higher up to his chin. Oh, right... _everything _was his fault, wasn't it? Hatsuki-nee leaving, too. "Leave me alone," he muttered, and, for a second, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Makoto's expression looking like he'd just been slapped. He'd already wanted to take it back by the time he said it, but the look on Makoto's face rendered him even more speechless, and the way his throat constricted was so painful that he had to clasp his hands over his neck, his eyes watering involuntarily from the pain.

Next thing he knew, Makoto was kneeling right next to the bed, the covers were being tucked in more securely, and there was that cold, yet somehow reassuring touch again, a big palm smoothing locks of hair out of his face, pressing gently against his burning up forehead, and Haru let out a defeated sigh. "I think you might be really sick, Haru... You know I can't just leave when you're like this. Where's Hatsuki-nee?"

He might have been burning up, but his insides felt frozen like a block of ice, and his voice was a little more clear as he replied, tone full of ire, "Hell if I know. She's gone too." He only regretted phrasing it that way when Makoto's hand smoothing his hair down faltered. However, the truth was still the truth, and Haruka had always been straightforward, not one for sugarcoating his thoughts.

Surprise made his eyes widen as he felt something heavy on his shoulder, and as he turned his head slightly, his nose was buried directly in Makoto's mass of brown hair. "All the more reason for me to stay by Haru-chan's side," the brunet murmured, his voice barely audible. Haru thought if there was any moment he would feel like crying, it would be this, but still all he did was raise a hand and dig his fingers in between those thick locks. In a funny contrast to his soft personality, Makoto's hair had a rather rough texture. Oddly enough, it suited him. Idly, somewhere at the back of his mind, Haruka wondered why he was even thinking such things; but, then again, if Makoto was right, and he was that sick, it was no wonder things in his head were going a little haywire. (Perhaps Hatsuki also had something to do with it, but Haruka refused to think about her right now. It was increasingly hard to think about anything anyways.)

"Good," he finally replied, and as Makoto raised his head, his expression now somewhere in between soft and vulnerable, he added, "Don't _ever _leave, Makoto."

That finally got the desired effect: a smile as brilliant as only Makoto's smiles could be. Instead of replying, though, he stood up. "I'll bring you some medicine. Just stay put, Haru." As if he had any intention of getting out of the warmth of his bed anyways.

It took Haruka a week to recover from the cold that was almost pneumonia; neither Hatsuki nor Mamoru returned during that time. When he could finally get up and move around, the first thing he did was go into her room, and pack everything up.

He would not be hanging onto memories of people who had thrown him away.


End file.
